Doorways

Photo by Neha Godbole

I’ve always loved doorways.

Beflowered cottage gates, round hobbit-hole doors, grand pillared entrances, moss-clad stone archways leading to long-abandoned castles echoing with memories, cave-openings where the sunlight gives way to mysterious darkness a few feet beyond the entrance . . .

Photo by Annie Spratt

Doorways are an invitation to see something new, something different – maybe even an opportunity to be different, to be transformed by the adventures waiting beyond the doorway.

Of course, there’s a dark side to this love of doorways: a conviction that I’m not good enough, that I need to find the “right” door that will take me down the “right” path and transform me into the person I “should” be. I’m all for figuring how to be a good person, but an obsession with self arising out of insecurity is unhealthy and – for me, at least – has sometimes made me feel paralyzed with indecision, which in turn is a pretty significant obstacle to actually being a good person.

But more often, it makes me happy thinking something wonderful is just around the bend, just beyond the next doorway.

So many of us have been through some pretty rough times lately. In addition to the ongoing wars and famine in many places, and the seemingly never-ending problems with racism and race-based violence, we’ve endured losses from the pandemic, wildfires, and freezing temperatures. And let us not forget murder hornets! (Okay, murder hornets haven’t really been a hardship for anyone so far, knock on wood – the wood of a lovely doorway – but still, giant killer wasps did make the last year seem even more apocalyptic!)

So here is my fervent wish for all of you, dear friends: may some new doorway open for you, inviting you to love, laughter, peace, and kindness.

Thumbnail image by Jon Garrison @earthwandering